


There's Always Been More

by Duck_Life



Category: X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Aliens, Character Study, Growing Up, Healing, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Love, M/M, POV Second Person, Shatterstar (2018) - Freeform, shatterstar miniseries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Shatterstar was made to do one thing.





	There's Always Been More

_ Get out there and fight. It's all you're good for.  _

This is the mandate, the law of life for gladiators. And if anyone ever stood up and said, I think I can be more than this, he was struck down and made an example. An example that says: This is what happens when you defy Mojo. This is what happens to you if you don't know your place.  

And the Cadre Alliance needed weapons, and Cable needed soldiers, and Julio… Julio needed a friend. 

And you began to think, maybe I am more than this. Maybe I am not just muscle and sinew and bone and neurons and firing impulses. Maybe I am a soul. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Who are you?”

“I told you!” you shout back, because you  _ know _ who you are. How could you not? “... Benjamin Russell.”

  
  


 

 

 

“I don't know who I am,” you confess, even though the admittance feels like a death sentence. You've always been able to play any part. Now you've lost whatever it was that made you special. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You all keep asking me. I don't know.”

Julio's hands are on your hands. “It's okay.” His hair is shorter and he is wearing a suit, and you have never felt the way you feel right now. “It's okay. I don't need to know who you are, alright? Just… just tell me who you wanna be.”

“Who… I want to be?”

“Yeah, go for it. Whatever it is, you can just tell me.”

You swallow. “I want to… I want to be sure of myself. I want my friends to trust me. I want to be near you.”

 

 

 

You fight. You fall in love. You leave. You come back. The world changes, but Julio’s hands are just as rough and warm as they always were. “I’m figuring myself out,” you tell him, and it feels like you’re delivering a status report. “I am still not sure who I am exactly, or what my purpose is. But I know that whatever my life is supposed to be… I want you in it.” 

 

 

 

Life is easier to understand when you split it up into genres. There is action: gnashing teeth and flashing swords, screaming and grunting, blood drying tacky on your skin. There is comedy: escapades with your teammates, brunches and lunches and late nights out at clubs, pranks pulled by Tabitha or Roberto or Layla. 

There is romance: soft mornings and hot nights, Julio’s mouth on yours. 

 

 

 

The day you buy the building, it’s supposed to be a turning point. It’s supposed to be a sign that you have helped yourself, and grown, and now it is your turn to help other people. It’s a good dream. It starts out strong.

(When it falls apart, you hold your head high. You keep going. You fight. It’s all you’re good for.)

 

 

 

 

“Tina would have been safer if I had left her on her own world.”

“Man, she was out on that bridge to jump,” Julio sighs. “You don't come back from that.”

You turn to look at him, reveling in the way the moonlight washes him in silver. “Yes. You do.”

 

 

 

“Two,” you say, letting the number hang around your neck like a weight. “Two of them are dead because I couldn’t escape the past.”

“The rest of ’em are alive because of you,” Julio reminds you. “Because of what you did. Because you’re a hero.” 

  
  


 

“You deserve to be loved by someone who is not a weapon.”

“I am,” Ric says. “And I love him back. I love you so much, ’Star. And… and you know how I feel about guns. I think I'd know if that's what you were.” 

  
  


 

 

Rictor is gone again. 

You are back on the same team you started out on, and Rictor is gone again, and you are recognizing once again that your life is a loop. All of it. You have fought, you are fighting, you will fight. You will have Julio, and then you will lose him, repeatedly, continuously. 

Every now and then, the details change. Cable is younger now. Your hair is shorter. The important things are the same though— the blood, and the fighting. 

 

 

 

“I don’t know who, or… or  _ what _ I am.” The admission hurts, deep in your chest, and shame curdles in your stomach. You’ve been here on Earth so long, how can you still not know? It doesn’t take anyone else this long to figure these things out. 

“You’re X-Force,” James Proudstar tells you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’re my friend.” He’s still sporting a gruesome chest wound, and you’re struggling to categorize this conversation, this moment. You are two friends sharing a drink and sharing your troubles— comedy. You are two soldiers in the trenches, experiencing a brief pause in the middle of hell— war. You are as real as the blood on your hands— documentary. “What else do you need to know?”

  
  


 

When Julio is finally back in your arms again, you feel as if you’re disappointing him. You would have wanted him to be able to come home to more than the broken thing that you are. “I love you,” Julio says, and his eyes are damp. “I love you so fucking much, I missed you so much, God, ’Star, I  _ love you _ .” He says these things as if he doesn’t notice how much of you is missing. 

“I missed you, too.” You’re alright, for the most part, and he’s the one who has been trapped in a hellish alternate reality for months. “Rictor, what can I do… how do I help you… ?” 

He kisses you, pours in all his relief. “Just hold me,” he asks. “Just… can you just hold me?” 

“Of course.”

  
  


 

Maybe there is something you’re good at besides fighting. 


End file.
